JH: When I was a child, my mother once told me…

ST: WAIT!

JH: What?

ST: You had a mother? I thought things like you HATCHED!

JH:…

ST: SCORE!

[The Cameras fade a bit, and wee cut backstage.]

[The roar of a motorcycle is heard rumbling through the backstage area of the FirStar Center. From around the curve in the bulding rides a man in black with dirty blond hair whipping behind him. He pulls in close to the camera and we can clearly make out who it is. It's the man who fell prey to Scott Easton's shinanagins last week and the man who might just be the one thing that can withstand the machine. It's the ohio river champion, the Guardian Angel and he's prepared to kick some ass tonight.]

[As the camera pans slightly to the right a tall lanky man with tatoons running up his arms swanters over the Guardian Angel with a microphone in hand. He's the TSW reporter, Chris Fischer.]

Fischer: "Angel after last weeks unscheduald loss, you've got to be thinking about Scott Easton presence here tonight?"

[He aims the mic at Angel.]

Guardian Angel (slightly smiles): "Let me tell you what happend last week, Chris. Last week the Guardian Angel was asked by a friend if he could do him a favor. If he could put on a show for the fans of the Tri-state area. He said were down in the raitings, interest is being lost the TSW and we need something. We've got to show the NWC the young talent we've got just waiting, and waiting ever so patient to get a shot, to stand as a star at the national level. And he siad to me, Angel, we need that match you had in PCW when you battled Ryan Stephens in the London Heritage championship tournament. We need that kind of heart right here, right now, tonight. Being a champion who will fight any and all oponents man who dosen't back down from a challenge. It was my duty to accept the challenge. Unfortunately, the fans were robe of that moment when a man, who will do anything to get his fiteen minutes assulted the ring and cracked my head wide open. That single event cost me the match. In time, destiny will lead my path to your's, Scott Easton, and come that time, I will destroy you."

[Wioth that last word a man blazes from the left and knocks the Guardian Angle right off his motorcycle. He stumbles and falls iagainst two garbage cans.]

JH: "Oh my god! Easton's pummeling Angel!

SH: "Yeah! This is great isn't it--wait a minute. What the hell?"

JH: "it's Bishop! He must have seen Easton's attack and is now comming to the aid of the Guardain Angel!"

ST: "Bastard! I was enjoying that."

JH: "Bishop's got a chair. He swings...."

ST: "He missed!"

JH: "But Easton's running with his tail tucked."

[Fade out.]

[The entrance way begins to fill with green smoke as a red spinning light swirls around the arena. The shadow of Raveller appears in the entranceway, and what appears to be a 15 foot ladder is laid across his shoulders. He's dressed in his typical fashion, black vinyl pants, black square toed boots, fishnet shirt and sleeveless trenchcoat, his dreadlocks tied back in a ponytail. Slowly he makes his way down the ramp as the red light still spins.]

[Raveller pauses outside the ring long enough to toss the ladder inside and climb the steps. He pauses for a moment on the apron and turns to look over the crowd before stepping between the ropes.]

[Raveller moves the ladder and sets it up as the lights returning to normal showing the ladder to be wrapped completely in barbed wire. He slips his shades and coat off and motions for a microphone as the music fades.]

Raveller: Morris, no one came here to see a wrestling match. They came here to see a blood bath.

[For the first time tonight the Hard Knox crowd comes alive slightly and shows their approval of Raveller's words.]

Raveller: Hardcore match, Morris. That is if your not scared to bleed.

[The fans seem mixed towards Raveller, but the majority seem to be getting on their feet.]

JH: The fans seemingly getting behind the young man from Detroit.

ST: Either that or maybe, just maybe, they're getting up to get a beer and a hot dog. Most fans are thankful for these early card matches. It gives them a chance to hit the bathrooms.

JH: Would if hurt you for just once to maybe give a guy some credit?

ST: Credit? What? I give these guys all the credit they deserve. Just so happens that most of them don't deserve any. Now if this guys makes Brain bleed then, I may give him an ounce of credit.

JH: Speaking of the man from Tacoma, Washington, here comes Brain Morris now.

[A dizzying techno music begings pumping out as Brain Morris steps out from the back. The Tri-tron comes to life with a alternating image of Morris and his name. He is wearing a pair of black pants and a white t-shirt. He slowly begins making his way down to the ring.]

ST: That guy looks a tad bit lost, the lights are on but nobody is home.

JH: Give the guy a chance. He has a history as being a great athlete and he just may very well suprise you.

ST: Suprise me? The man is nuts, he had to get put in the loony bin for a time because his poor little head couldn't take life's traumas.

JH: This is neither the time nor place to talk about that. Morris down to ring side now.

ST: Holy flying dreadlocks!!!!

JH: Raveller launching himself as he springboards off the top rope and hits a suicide plancha on the unsuspecting Morris. That certainly got Brain's attention as well as the crowds.

[The crowd is on its feet early as Raveller pulls Brain to his feet. Hitting him with a few over hand rights before walking Brain towards the ring.]

ST: And people thought the PUW was the only region in the council to take it over the edge.

JH: And the match is finally underway as Raveller shoves Brain into the ring under the bottom rope. Brain appears to still be feeling the affects of that plancha as Raveller lays into him with a number of rights and lefts.

ST: Dazed? Feeling the affects? Hell, stick a fork in Brain he's done.

JH: I've seen enough wrestling over the years to know that you never count a man out.

ST: You do when he's outside of the ring after the ten count.

JH: You're just a laugh a minute tonight. Brain trying to gain some control back in this match as they lock up in center ring.

ST: You start a match with a suicide dive and it slows down to this? I think the fans are bored already. Hey I think I see my future ex-wife over there in row five, section six.

JH: Brain with a single arm takedown and his back up on top of Raveller with a simple front face lock.

ST: Wake me up when this is over...

JH: Raveller starting to feel the effects as he struggles back to his feet. He's giving away alot of size and strength to Morris.

ST: Raveller needs a hair cut.

JH: Would you call the match?

ST: That's your job. I'm here to simply keep the fans from falling asleep from your droning voice.

JH: Raveller with a quick single leg takedown breaking Brain's hold.

[Raveller is up and into the ropes and he comes out with a rolling clothesline just as Brain was getting upright.]

ST: He damn near decapitated the big man with that!

JH: Raveller using to the momentum from the ropes to make up for his smaller stature as he lays Brain out with a flowing rolling clothesline.

ST: What the heck is that guy doing? This kid is nuts.

JH: Raveller quickly up to the top as Morris is slow to recover from that lariat.

[Morris is half way to his feet as Raveller launches into the air with a arching motion as he moonsaults onto Morris crumpling both men.]

JH: Both men down as Raveller takes down Morris with a twisting moonsault. This kid has no regard for his own safety.

ST: Ergo, he has no brains. You know the object is to hurt your opponent not yourself.

JH: Raveller rolling to the outside, he's got a chair. Brain's to his feet.

ST: Where's pinky?

[Raveller is about to get back into the ring with the chair when Brain hits a desparation baseball slide, sending the chair into Raveller's face. The crowd is on its feet as they know its about to get ugly.]

JH: Raveller looking to make this into a hardcore match, but his plan backfires as Brain sent that chair crashing back into Raveller's head. Raveller's down folks. Brain to the outside.

ST: Look Brain's gonna use Raveller's ladder, alright finally this is getting interesting.

JH: Brain has the ladder set up and Raveller is still laying crumpled on the floor. Brain on his way up. Brain is at the top, it looks like he's going to go for a high risk maneuver here to try and end this match.

ST: He better be careful of all that barbed wire. Hey wait! That sneaky little dreadlocked freak! I love it!

[Raveller hops to his feet quickly and dropkicks the ladder, sending Brain spilling over the top rope into the ring leaving the ladder leaning against the top rope.]

JH: Raveller was playing possum and Brain is hurt in the center of the ring. That fall took alot out of him.

ST: Now this is something I can get into. Raveller's having words with some of those ungrateful fans, pointing to his head showing that he is smarter than the brain.

JH: Raveller turning his attention back to the ring, Brain is still down in the center.

[Raveller uses the ladder as a ramp as he runs up the ladder and launches himself off the top at Brain.]

JH: Raveller with a tumbleweed onto the fallen Morris. The fans are alive and letting Raveller know it after that twisting somersault leg drop.

ST: For once I will admit I am speechless.

JH: Raveller is up and it looks like this one is over. There is no way to recover from something like that.

ST: What the hell is he doing now?

JH: Raveller vaults over the rope and onto the apron. I think he's going for his signature springboard shooting star press he calls Redemption.

ST: This I gotta see.

JH: There is it, Raveller is up arching high in the air and this one appears to be over as he hooks the leg and raises his other hand in the air.

1...


2......





3!!!!!!!!!!

JH: And this one is over just like that. It didn't last very long but we saw sides of this young athlete, Raveller, that we hadn't seen as of yet.

ST: Face it, Brain was out classed and it just didn't look like...well...it just didn't look like his head wasn't it. Or maybe I should say Brain's brain wasn't in it.

JH: Hilarious Schaef, truly you should be doing nightly shows in Vegas.

ST: Thank you, I really try.

JH: Raveller turns some heads and picks up the easy with his suicide style. Folks we'll be right back after this commercial break.